Out of all of the old people who came into our store yesterday, only one of them was outwardly crazy, so that isn't a bad percentage, I guess. There were of course several surly old bastards with questionable hygiene, but only a single one of them was certifiable.
He came in wearing brown pants, a brown shirt, and a brown blazer, all in clashing shades, naturally. From now on I'm calling this outfit the Turd Tuxedo. He spoke in confusing non sequiturs, paid for his pint of terrible liquor, and walked toward the automatic exit door.
Here's where the fun began, because I don't believe this man had ever seen a door that opens automatically. He kept staring at it while it was open, then it would start to close as he moved forward, which startled him, causing him to retreat. This went on for several minutes. I fully expected him to shout "LORDY, THE DOOR'S MAGIC!!" and run screaming down an aisle. Finally, one of our cashiers, who is a painfully naive and sincere young lady, said without a hint of sarcasm or vindictiveness, "Sir, it's okay for you to walk through the door."
That seemed to be the encouragement he needed, for he proceeded to leave the building and, although dumbfounded by a door, felt confident enough to operate an automobile the size of a tank. I'm assuming he plowed into a school bus on the way home.
Not long after Turd Tuxedo left I had to process a merchandise return. No big deal, but this was an Old Person Return. What's the difference between a regular return and an old person return? Well, you and I would return wine or liquor if it had obviously gone bad; or perhaps if someone gave us a bottle we didn't like we would return it unopened for an exchange. Old people, on the other hand, like to buy cheap ass shit, try it, and then return it if they don't like the way it tastes. Oh, the crafty fuckers will say "It went bad" but we know what spoiled wine smells like. These cheap bastards are lying to us. Unfortunately, it's against store policy to shout "LIAR! DIE, YOU LOUSY FUCKING LYING SACK OF SHIT!" at the dishonest elderly, so we have to stand there and eat their bullshit sandwich.
The guy yesterday was returning a four-pack of 250ml boxes of merlot. These are what pass for Juicy Juice at R. Kelly's house, and we sell a four-pack for $2.50. And it didn't taste good? Really, oh Sommelier to the fuck-brained, you paid less than three dollars for a litre of wine and it didn't have the "taste profile" you were hoping for? Fuck you! Most people would have tasted the wine, spit it out, and said "Well, I'm a moron for thinking this shit would taste good. I'll never buy that again." But you got up, ate breakfast at Bob Evans, and drove to the liquor store to complain about the taste of wine in a fucking Capri Sun container? Isn't your time and/or dignity worth at least $2.50? No? Then kindly die.
Normally for a return under five dollars I'll just reach into the register and give them cash, but this guy was being a jerk so he got store credit. I hope he doesn't spend it all at once.